A Minimal Man
by solista
Summary: How many things does one man need. Johnny haas a decision.


A Minimal Man

1. Very small: very small in amount or extent

2. Smallest possible: smallest possible in amount or least possible in extent

He rolled onto his back and stretched his lean body engulfed by the soft mattress under him, sheets smelling like sunshine and lavender.

Rubbing a hand down his face then to his strong chest to rest on his flat stomach Johnny Madrid Lancer sighed, his blue eyes staring up at the ceiling a smile on his face.

When had he ever felt this way? Going back to a time when a clean bed and sheets were few and far in between, when there was even a roof without holes over his head.

It was in the past, he was here now, home at Lancer.

Shifting the covers back exposed the lean uncovered body, Johnny despised sleeping in nightshirts or even cut off long johns, he was not an exhibitionist, but he was no old maid prudish in the display of his naked body.

The rooster crowing outside brought another revelation his bladder was full. Sitting up he padded over to the chamber pot he disliked the porcelain clad bowl however going down the back stairs undressed would not do his image any good.

First things first accomplished, he moved to the ceramic washbasin, his 'sister' T'resa had a bowl painted just for him with horses running around the edge.

Shaking his head once more, his own washbasin, his own bed and sheets, hell even his own chamber pot, when had he ever had those things.

They were necessities but as he glanced here and there in his room in his home he wondered, just how much belongings did one person need to be happy.

Finished with his washing and shaving Johnny moved over to the dresser, top drawer held his socks, Dios the thing was full, he never bought that many socks in his whole life, the next drawer would hold his long johns or cut offs, but since he didn't wear any... Dios the thing was full, red ones, white ones, wool, cotton...pushing the drawer closed with a resounding thump he pulled the next drawer, his colorful shirts pressed and folded, but there were too many. Hell, you could only wear one at a time.

The last drawer nightshirts; pushing the last drawer closed with another disgusted thump he turned around.

The wardrobe was next, flinging open the door he found his calzoneres, the brown ones and a black pair made of soft leather, with buttons running down each leg.

To the young man's dismay, he also found a city suit, a charro suit, two pair of denim pants his bolero jacket and three other jackets. Pulling the brown calzoneres from the wardrobe he pulled them over his slim hips and butt... slipping on his red shirt, and then pulling socks on, he bent to push socked feet into his boots.

A determined look on his handsome face he pulled open the door and ran into his older brother coming down the hall.

"Whoa little brother slow down, what's got you in a tizzy?" the older son of Lancer said, looking his brother up and down to find the explanation for his brother's stress.

Giving his brother a glare the younger Lancer continued his journey downstairs to the rest of his family, "I'll talk ta ya all together brother," he threw back over his shoulder as he disappeared down the stairs.

Scott stood silently for a minute, well this could not be good, and it was too early for anyone to have put a burr under his little brother's saddle.

Following behind his brother Scott descended the narrow stairs that lead directly to the kitchen

As his foot left the last step he stopped, all eyes on the young man who stood with hands on hips and fire in his eyes.

Glancing at Scott Johnny motioned for him to sit, turning to Maria and T'resa he also motioned them to sit. Murdoch Lancer folded his paper and sat it to the side of his plate,

"John I don't remember calling for a family meeting."

Johnny locked on to his father's eyes, "No sir you did not, but I am. We gotta get a few things straight here, since all of ya are involved," he looked around to each of his family.

Scott with wariness, Murdoch with silent questions, and Maria and T'resa at a total loss as they looked at each other for an answer, eyes turned to the young man.

"I been here less than a year, I didn't come with much, I never needed much," throwing his arm up towards the ceiling, "All that bits and pieces in my room, tha life I led no schedules or strings, no need fer all that fancy riggin'."

Four sets of eyes all had the same question Murdoch cleared his throat and looked at his younger son as if the boy had lost his mind, "John it's too early in the morning to try and guess your meaning. Tell us what has gotten you so all fired up."

"Things Murdoch, too many things... I ain't changed much from tha time I stepped in this door, I only needed my horse, my guns, the clothes on my back and one change of pants and shirt. Up there," he waved with his arm to take in the upstairs, "that aint' me."

Scott shifted in his seat, he knew his brother never had the things he himself had growing up, "Brother you are acting like it's a sin to have a few nice items for yourself."

Johnny glared at his brother, "That ain't it, I ain't followed orders or kept schedules lessen' they was on my terms."

Johnny faltered, "This is ...is..."

Murdoch looked at his high tempered son, taken from his home at the age of two drifting in and out of Mexican border towns, no home to give the boy roots anyone to give him direction and stability. After the death of his mother, the only family he had, from the tender age of ten the boy grew up undisciplined.

"Son you knew there would be changes, limitations as well as free will. Your family cares for you son, we want you to be contented."

Johnny turned his back on his family as he ran a hand through his unruly dark hair taking a minute to rein in his indignation.

He turned back around, his family still sat there, quietly waiting on the younger Lancer.

With a slight grin on his face and his eyes, sparkling with humor Johnny looked at each person sitting there, "Lo siento mi familia, I... well it's just that... dang it all. I still have that feeling sometime o' bein' corralled and it kinda battles with the wanting in me ta stay."

The young dark haired, blue-eyed son of Lancer bowed his head, "It's just that my life never had the heartaches and doubts of livin' like this." Looking at each person, "I have a 'sister', a 'mother', a father and a brother. Responsibilities o' being a good son, a..." glancing at his father, "a pillar of society."

Hands back on hips, head down, "Gonna take me some time. Lo siento."

Scott stood to move beside his brother, putting an arm across the younger man's shoulders he steered him to his seat at the table, Maria stood as the boy was planted in his chair.

"Now little brother; now that little piece of drama has played out, may we eat." Scott smiled at Maria, pushed gently at his brothers bowed head, and moved around to sit in his own chair.

Murdoch popped open his paper once again and Teresa jumped up and threw her arms around her 'brothers' neck, "We do love you Johnny, but you can be a drama queen." Kissing the top of his head, she bounced away before he could backhand her, his aim for her petticoated rear end.

His voice a grumble "Ain't no queen."

Looking up, defiance now on his face and his voice, "I ain't wearin' none o' those nightshirts or under wear, I got some freedoms left."

Scott sipped his coffee, Murdoch re-folded his paper and stared at his son, Teresa put a hand to her mouth to stifle a laugh and Maria moved in behind her hijo, she swatted him gently on the back of his head, " If you rasgar su pantalones, what then mi hijo?"

Johnny smiled up at the woman who was like a mother, "Madrecita, at least I would be exposing mi libre albedrio."

Murdoch grunted, "You would be exposing more than your freedom my son."

Johnny smiled; it was a ray of sunshine demons that threatened turned back; tantrums, rejections, and uncertainness vanished replaced by cheerfulness, acceptance and trust.

The housekeeper served the Lancer men the lingering waited for breakfast Teresa aided her, and then sat with her family.

Maria began the process of cleaning up her kitchen, the small talk and laughter from the family at the table gave her heart joy. She clicked her tongue to the roof of her mouth when her Juanito glanced up to her, blue eyes like a clear deep lake, smiled at her, a grin that gave her pause. The pequeno diablo was enjoying his self this was muy bueno. Her Chico had come home.


End file.
